


The Feeling of Rain

by Sketchione



Series: Galar, the Great and Wonderful [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Headcanon, Homelessness, Poverty, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21797068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchione/pseuds/Sketchione
Summary: Oleana thought she was long past the point of caring. As long as Trubbish was by her side, then living on the streets in the pouring rain didn't seem so bad.An up-and-coming businessman thinks differently.
Series: Galar, the Great and Wonderful [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570714
Comments: 11
Kudos: 101





	The Feeling of Rain

Oleana didn’t know when she’d stopped feeling. The rain just…didn’t have any affect anymore. Sure she was soaked to the bone, hair drenched and yet still greasy with dirt, but she wasn’t _feeling_ it like she used to. Maybe it was that she’d turned 17 today, but Oleana had never believed in any of that ‘coming of age’ crap she saw on TV.

Well other people’s TVs anyway. Pressing her face up against the windows and looking in on a warm family living room to see so much wealth go to waste used to send her blind with rage.

_How dare they not appreciate what they have?_

That was always her go to. Now, not so much. Nowadays Oleana just tucked her knees under her chin in a token gesture of warmth conservation. It didn’t actually make any sort of difference but changing positions did always provide a brief entertainment no matter how trivial. It was practically the highlight of her days; it wasn’t like there was anything else to do.

The cardboard that was supposed to be protecting her from the elements was a token gesture by some measure as well.

_It’s just sturdier tissue paper. Flops in the rain just the same._

Oleana’s ‘house’ (if you could go as far as to call it that) had sprung yet another leak. The tiny support beams she’d hauled out of the Hammerlocke canal were her most prised possessions at this point, propping up whatever cover she could get her grimy hands on.

The awnings were usually cardboard, until they got soaked and gave way. Then she went searching behind one of the many takeaway restaurants and ‘appropriate’ some of theirs. It wasn’t like they needed all of it. Rinse and repeat. Another highlight to her otherwise uneventful life.

_One man’s trash is another woman’s treasure._

Galar had gotten a lot better in recent years about its environmental policies but it still wasn’t perfect. Fly tipping was still very much an issue, not that Oleana was complaining. More goodies for her.

It also required effort to think about and that wasn’t something that was ever high on her priority list. Still, even if she was always hungry the omnipresent trash was a dream come true for her only friend, and for that she was at least grateful for.

“How’re you holding up, Trubbish? At least I don’t have to ever worry about you starving on me.” The sky was darkening now, bringing an end to another uneventful day. The rain wasn’t showing any signs of packing in but since when was that anything but the norm?

“Trub, Trubbish!”

She patted the garbage bag lightly, taking note of its sombre expression.

“That sounds about right.”

She knew it didn’t mind the rain in the slightest so what was bothering it had to be a little closer to home. It always was.

“I ate yesterday morning. That’s good enough.”

“Bishhh…” Her Pokémon shook its body in a similar fashion to how one might shake their head. It clearly didn’t agree with her idea of ‘full’ but there was little to be done.

Oleana thumbed over the grand total of 2 coins she had to her name. Both found dropped by check-ins to the Budew Drop Inn, she’d set her camp up behind the building in the hope of future bounty.

It was a pipe dream but it beat stealing and risk going to prison.

“I do get fed in prison though,” Oleana pondered. “And I wouldn’t be wet. I can’t bring myself to care though. Wet or not wet, it’s not even a different feeling these days.”

She felt her Trubbish tugging on her wrist lightly as if imploring her not to give up. Oleana responded in turn, wiping some of the matted hair out of her eye.

“I haven’t given up. Not on you, just me. You’re my only friend and you deserve more. You deserve all the riches this world has to offer, just sitting beside me when I’m invisible to people who pass me by.”

_I live in a world where stray Pokémon get more attention than I do. Funny that. Not like I can launch thunderbolts or light things on fire. I could tackle things I guess, if I had to. Still sounds like effort._

“I’ve told you, Trubbish, you can leave me at any time. I don’t have a pokéball for you so it’s not like I own you like a trainer would.”

In response the garbage bag snuggled up to her, making itself more at home on the wet towel that passed as her floor.

“Figures.” She went back to stroking its body, enjoying the squishing sensation beneath her finger tips.

_I get a birthday wish, right?_

Oleana smelled her jumper briefly; she was well past the point of gagging. It’d been red at one point she vaguely recalled. More brown than red now, but that was years old news.

_Could wish I didn’t smell of wet Boltund and Wooloo dung, but I’d just get dirty again. Could wish to be happy, but I don’t know what that is. Could wish for a cake, but I’ve never eaten one. Be a waste if I didn’t like the taste._

She could feel the carboard above her starting to flop onto her scalp, buckling from the continued pressure. I didn’t matter.

_I wish…that I had something to do._

“I could try and sneak into Hammerlocke stadium again. I hear they’re renovating it.”

“Trubbi?”

“If I could get us some plastic sheeting then we’d really be living the dream. Or I could pester the people at Budew Drop Inn reception for money until they kick me out, like always.”

_That seems more entertaining. I deserve some fun today._

Oleana stood, tearing through the rest of the now useless cardboard.

“Stay here. Two things smelling of trash will get us kicked out faster.” Trubbish seemed concerned for her but it made no move to follow as Oleana meandered her way around to the front of the building.

Soft, generic music leaking out between the sliding doors, Oleana waited for the automation to do its job and grant her entry. The Budew Drop Inn never did have very noteworthy security.

Inside was dry, well lit, and all around nothing like the outside where it was dark, damp, and many other words beginning with the letter D.

Sauntering over to the counter, the receptionist let out a groan which could only be construed as exasperation as he caught her eye; he was already shaking his head by the time she’d made it up the stairs.

“You _again_? Seriously, pack it in, lady! We’re not giving you money!”

“Happy birthday to you too,” Oleana murmured dryly. The man behind the counter shook his head again, reaching for the desk phone.

“I’m very sorry about this.” The man wasn’t addressing her this time, instead turning his attention to the check-in she’d apparently interrupted.

“It’s quite alright.”

Oleana raised an eyebrow. Unlike the receptionist, who was doing his absolute best to ignore her existence, the man had turned towards her. Met her eye, even.

_Hardly anyone does that. If they do it’s always a mistake._

It wasn’t a mistake as the man held her gaze, taking note of her appearance. They were worlds apart in terms of dress. A tailormade suit, no doubt woven with Kantonian Butterfree silk, a pocket hankerchief, and shoes that…well…Oleana didn’t have any of them at all so they were always impressive to her.

_Beard expertly shaped, hair slick with gel, the most ridiculous gold pocket watch…so he’s a businessman? Would explain the hotel._

A foreigner would have been forgiven for mistaking the two as different species entirely.

“She just comes in off the street and begs,” the receptionist commented, waiting for the line to connect. “I’ll have her removed for you. Can’t have her getting away of our guests.”

“Do you intend to get in the way?” The man on the other side of the counter was talking to _her._ A novel idea. He seemed almost amused by the whole situation. Oleana shook her head, not caring that she was spraying dirt and water over the floor as she did so.

Oleana looked him up and down, noting his paunch. Though not much older than her he was clearly well fed and doing well for himself. This man just oozed wealth and class and yet he was speaking to her.

“No, just to beg for money.”

“You mentioned a Birthday? A gift perhaps?”

“Maybe for my Pokémon. For me, just enough for some food. It’s either that or I go bin diving for chips again, and that’s an effort I’d rather not.”

“Ah, putting your Pokémon first. A noble act if I do say so. They are great creatures.” The statement seemed to resonate with him, if clasping his hands together firmly was any indication.

“What’s it to you? She’s sticking by me even though I’ve got nothing.”

Oleana couldn’t place the look on his face. It wasn’t disgust, the receptionist’s face was doing enough of that for the both of them. Mild…something. Oleana had never been good with expressions. Her own had gone blank after the 5th year of living in squalor. Anger took effort.

“This woman said she doesn’t intend to get in the way, you may stop your call.”

Both the receptionist and Oleana stared at the man. Never-the-less the man complied, placing the receiver down slowly. Whoever this man was, Oleana decided, he was important. Important enough for someone not working for him to listen anyway.

“B-but…”

“She isn’t bothering me or ‘getting in the way’ as you so put it.” The man shrugged. “She’s been polite has she not?” He turned to her again. “Have you ever been violent towards these people?”

“No, that takes effort.”

“You see? She’s fine.” The smile he was directing towards the receptionist was forced, if forced was the correct word. Oleana wasn’t sure.

“She’ll just use any money we give her for drugs! Most homeless people do.” He seemed almost indignant that he was having to answer the questions. Like the answers were so blindingly obvious that even an idiot could see them.

Oleana didn’t think the man was an idiot…or maybe he was? He’d spoken to her of his own accord after all.

“Are you intending to buy drugs?”

“No. I’m homeless, not an idiot. They’re expensive and it’s a slippery slope.”

“A marvellous response!” The man seemed genuinely pleased with her and Oleana wasn’t sure how to react. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Even if it was just a throwaway response to a meaningless question, she still felt warmer inside than she had in years.

“B-but…her personal hygiene! It disrupts people! Our image here at the Budew Drop Inn is one of cleanliness!”

“Hardly my fault,” Oleana found herself muttering, quickly scanning the desk. The screen with the man’s check in details. “Also they’re short-changing you,” she said simply, pointing a finger to the monitor.

“I beg your pardon?!” The receptionist’s face had gone red. Anger? Perhaps. Embarrassment? Apparently, judging by the raise of the other man’s eyebrow.

“Oh?” A comment to either of them but Oleana was the first to answer.

“Yeah I’ve been in and out of here enough times. Master Suites aren’t that much, looks like a 17.5% increase to me.” She directed her gaze to the receptionist. “Trying to add tax when it’s always included? Classy.”

“Well I **never**!” That was definitely anger now, Oleana watched him fumble for the desk phone. “That does it, you’re out of here, lady!”

“She’s right,” the man quietly interjected, having pulled out his phone. “That’s remarkable mental arithmetic. I had to use a calculator!” Again, he seemed amused, scratching his beard ever so slightly.

“It was nothing. Just know how to count my money is all. When you don’t have much you hold on to every last piece.”

“True.” His face darkened for the first time, but it was towards the counter and not her. Another surprise. Usually people just got mad for her taking up any of their time no matter how small. “If you still intend on calling security then I shall be escorted out as well.”

“W-what? You can’t be…” The phone clattered to the surface, forgotten.

“Serious? Of course.” The man’s face was impassive, similar to Oleana’s, but something had changed. It was like the air had become still on a whim.

“B-but…”

“I came here on behalf of my company to do business, not be swindled by a dishonest employee. I’m cancelling my reservation effective immediately. There are other places in Motostoke for me to stay the night.”

“You’ll never find a room this late!”

The man laughed, echoing around the empty foyer. It was short and to the point, conveying all the words that the receptionist needed to know.

“You know I have the money.”

In response the receptionist bolted through the back door, no doubt to find a supervisor to protest to.

“If he wants to try and convince his boss that he wasn’t trying to steal then he can go ahead. I’ll be sending an email to corporate on behalf of Macro Cosmos tomorrow regarding this…incident.”

_That name…that rings a bell. They’re pretty new but they make a lot of energy related products don’t they? Not so useful for someone with no electricity._

The man had turned to Oleana once more, startling her out of her thoughts. Of course she was surprised, she’d already come to the conclusion that addressing her was a fluke.

_Twice in one day. Today really is my birthday._

“As gratitude I’d like for you to come with me.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” Oleana answered flatly. Another laugh, but genuine this time.

“No, no! You misunderstand! I want you to work for me!”

Oleana furrowed her brow slightly, picking at her tattered jumper.

“Is that still for se…?”

The man cut her off, waving a hand nonchalantly.

“The streets clearly haven’t been kind to you if those were your immediate thoughts. No…” The man clasped his hands, but this time with hers interlocked with his. “I want to employ you in my company. As my assistant.”

Oleana’s heart had frozen the second he’d made contact. She stared at their fingers dumbly, wondering if there was some mistake. He was _touching_ her. Like, not with gloves or anything. He was unbelievably warm.

_This is what it feels like? I’d always imagined._

“You’re making yourself dirty.” The man made no move to pull away. Even as Oleana was proven correct and the dirt on her hands began to rub off on his.

“The world has been far less kind to you. I intend to help change that.”

“…Why?”

“Why?” He seemed puzzled by the idea. “Tell me, if you live on the streets have you had a formal education?”

“No.”

“And yet your mathematics are beyond what most people would assert to be ‘excellent’. How did you learn?”

“I’ve been fishing textbooks out of a ditch,” Oleana said slowly. “I don’t like reading fiction…about other people’s better lives. Things like numbers were always nicer.”

“You poor woman. Let us find another hotel. I’ll put you up in a room too, it’s raining outside quite heavily.”

“I’ve been sleeping in it for nearly a week.”

“Precisely why I’m changing that.” The man led Oleana back down the stairs to the sliding door, still not letting her hand go. “You have talent, and I won’t see you go to waste.”

_Waste. Everyone says I’m a waste. Now this person is telling me I have things **not** to waste? That I have…talent?_

“That receptionist didn’t drug you, did he?” Oleana commented. “This is really what you’re doing? Giving a homeless woman a job in your fancy company?”

“Ohohoho!” The man was smiling, this time at her. The warmth in her chest was back, and Oleana wondered if her body was shutting down.

_Am I ill? What…is this?_

“My company is fairly small right now, but yes I suppose the things I wear are fancy enough. Though I do prefer jogging bottoms and t-shirt,” he admitted. “But to grow even bigger to help all of Galar I need a fancy image. Besides…I hear drugs are quite expensive. That man would hardly waste them on me if he had any!”

It took Oleana a moment to realise that the man was joking. A jab at her earlier remark. It was a strange feeling. Not just talking with another human but having them joke around with you too?

_Definitely my birthday. Or maybe I’m just dying and hallucinating. That’d be something._

“Heh, that’s true. Seriously though, Mr FancyBusinessGuy, I bet you’ve got a lot of people with actual qualifications from universities who’d love to help. I learned to read from a Kalosian-Galarian dictionary, not exactly highbrow or fancy.”

The man shrugged again in response, producing an umbrella from his jacket pocket.

_Deep pockets alright._

“And you’re showing dedication whether you realise it or not. Not something you learn at a university, or by having your parents try and use their influence to get you places.” He shook his head, reminiscing.

“My parents always wanted me to become a gym leader. My fondness for the steel type was apparently enough for them.”

“I…don’t remember mine.”

The man frowned, holding the umbrella over the both of them as they walked out.

“My apologies.”

“It’s fine, I don’t miss them.”

“…”

“Look…if you’re serious about giving a stranger a job then where I go, my Pokémon goes too.” Oleana led the man around the back of the hotel, finding Trubbish snuggling under the rain warped carboard.

“You live here?” The man seemed pained almost, surveying the ruins that were apparently living quarters for a human being.

Oleana nodded as she knelt, putting herself outside the radius of the umbrella. “She’s a Trubbish so if that bothers you, you can leave us both here.”

At the mention of its name, the bag leapt up into her arms, springing free of the remains of the ‘house’. Oleana held it tight against her, closing her eyes.

“I wouldn’t leave her, not for the fanciest job in the world. She’s everything to me…”

“…What’s your name?”

“Oleana.”

“Oleana, that was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

She turned slowly to find the man dabbing at his eyes. His umbrella was still up so it wasn’t as if the rain had gotten under it.

“Are you crying?”

“Your bond with your Pokémon, that…that cannot be earned through a degree in our education system. Macro Cosmos needs people like you. People who care.”

“…”

“My offer is still open. You can be a force for good in this world, I’m sure of it.”

The man held out his hand, it too now outside of the umbrella’s protection. Oleana stared at it, slowly becoming wet as the rain continued to fall. She raised her eyes to the man it belonged to, finding only compassion. Hurt, pain, but above all…compassion.

“You could walk away from here.” The streetlights were on now on the main street, casting the two of them in shadow. “No one would blame you. Leave me to be invisible like everyone does.”

“Please.” A word Oleana had never thought she’d hear. The man’s eyes were kind, she decided. With that one word, that reinforcement of his plea, he’d undone her.

“…Thank you.” Oleana took the hand, pulling herself to her feet, careful to not drop Trubbish in the process. “And your name is?”

“Call me Rose.”

Oleana wasn’t sure when she’d started feeling again.

_But this feeling…this feeling I can live with._

**Author's Note:**

> Just embracing the headcanon of Oleana's past and giving a spin on it. In X and Y's postgame, Emma admits she's too poor to be able to afford pokeballs so her Espurr doesn't use one. It makes sense Trubbish is the same deal until Oleana gets her life on track.
> 
> Credit to Psybexm for the headcanon about Rose and the steel type gym, couldn't resist adding that in.


End file.
